


is this what you wanted

by FancifulRivers



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aborted Undertale Genocide Run, But also still not evil, Canon-Typical Violence, Chara Is Not Evil, Curiosity killed the cat, Frisk is a little debatable here, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Suicide, No Mercy Route, Nonbinary Chara (Undertale), Nonbinary Frisk (Undertale), Undertale Genocide Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 07:10:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18544816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancifulRivers/pseuds/FancifulRivers
Summary: Frisk and Chara debate ethics.





	is this what you wanted

It's become a routine by now. Dodge left, jump up to the right, duck behind a pillar. A chip of rock streaks across your cheek, leaving behind a thin trail of red. You barely notice it, your grip on the knife handle tightening. Your muscles quiver, ready to move on your command.  _Now!_

Your slash meets nothing but air and you wobble, over-balancing and landing on your chin with a crash. When you look up, you can  _see_ him, smirking at you.

"what's the matter, kiddo?" He asks. "can't believe you're  _falling_ for me." You glare at him, levering yourself to your knees, then your feet. You can feel Chara nearby, hovering, full of tense anticipation.

They didn't feel like that at the beginning. You remember their horror, infusing you like some sickly fog. Their tears traced your cheeks, made your hands tremble. You had to convince them. Had to  _show_ them. This is necessary. You need to do this. You can't explain why. Your curiosity burns in your stomach, pressing you forward.

 _Do it,_ Chara whispers, red eyes bright and eager.  _He's the judge. You're the executioner._

Beneath their words, you can hear another whisper, from the deepest, darkest remnants of their SOUL.  _Dirty brother killer._

You ignore it.

You're good at ignoring it these days.

"I'm going to win, you know," you tell Sans in a fevered, harsh whisper. It's hard for you to talk out loud, but it's worth it, to see the look on the comedian's face. "I'm getting faster. I'm more  _determined_ than you."

"we'll see," he says in a bored tone, right as the whine from the Gaster Blasters hits your ears and you're blown into smithereens, returning to the inky darkness of potential.

" _Damn_ him," you seethe, kicking at nothing. Here, Chara is more tangible, at least when they want to be. They look at you, black ichor dripping from their smile. It makes you shiver a little.

"We'll get him," Chara reassures you. Their voice echoes. "Don't give up." They remind you of a demented cheerleader.

"Thanks," you say, heaving a breath. "Let's go." You press forward, toppling into the golden reset point. As you do every other time, you look down at yourself, obsessively checking that you aren't missing limbs, bloodied and broken, your guts spilling out into cupped hands. Only the dusty hem of your sweater meets your eyes.

 _You're fine,_ Chara drawls.  _Come on already._ You laugh, sketching a salute in the air.

"This time," you say. "I have a good feeling."

Your good feeling lasts all of five minutes before he skewers you like a frog on a card. You spasm helplessly for several horrible, eternity-stretching moments, before he takes pity on you and cracks your SOUL in half like an egg.

"Okay, that didn't work," you say, scowling furiously down at your shoes. They look eerie, surrounded by darkness.

"Frisk?" Chara asks. "Why- why is this so important?" You bite your bottom lip. At the beginning, you knew that 'curiosity' was not a good enough excuse. (You know it now, somewhere deep inside, where guilt and shame pulse like a living thing.) Is it now? Now that Chara's eyes burn with their own feverish light and their smile stretches beyond their face?

"I'm curious what's going to happen," you finally tell them, making a snap decision. Impossibly, the blackness around you looms even more, grows even darker, and you swallow hard, your sweaty hand barely maintaining your grip on the knife.

"Curious," Chara repeats, in a peculiar, blank voice. "Curiosity. You killed my mother in front of me. She took me in, did you know that? I fell down and she took me in. Made me a part of her family. I never had a real family, not one that took care of me. She took  _you_ in, too. And how did you repay her? Dust." Chara laughs, an odd, howling laugh that sounds more like they're crying. "You told me it was important. You told me it was  _necessity_. You told me that you  _had_ to do it. Why? Because you were  _curious_." They make the word sound like the foulest epithet and you cringe.

"It's not like that," you try to interject, but Chara steamrolls right over you, talking faster and faster.

"Do you remember all the monsters you've killed? Do you remember Undyne? Mettaton?  _Papyrus_? He  _believed_ in you. In  _us_. I wanted to spare him. I  _asked_ to spare him. You dusted him and crushed his skull. Do you remember that? Do you remember being so particularly cruel to the one monster who never tried to hurt you? He thought you could be  _good_." Chara's upper lip curls in disgust.

"You don't understand," you plead, your stomach churning with nausea. Chara's suddenly right there, in your face, and some of the ichor smearing their chin drips onto your sweater, burning a hole through it.

"Do you feel them?" They ask you in a too-sweet, innocent voice.

"Er- what?" You ask. They smile wider.

"Your sins," they say calmly. "Crawling on your back." Goosebumps ripple up your spine when they say that and you have to fight the urge to feel your back. It's just a metaphor, anyway, you reassure yourself. And besides, it's okay.

"It's okay, though," you tell them. "I can just reset."

"And no one will remember, is that it?" Chara asks, voice layered with contempt. "You want to get your curiosity out, have some fun, and then reset so you get your perfect, happy little ending?"

"Well...yes," you say, flushing. "I...guess that wasn't a good idea..."

"You  _used_ me," Chara hisses. "Used my Determination... Do you think  _you_ have enough to do all of this? It's because of  _me_. You turned me into something  _horrible_ and I  _let_ myself-" They shudder. "I am the demon that comes when you call its name," they recite bleakly, and the words make you shiver.

"You aren't a demon," you protest. "You're just a kid-"

"How many kids do you know with red eyes and whatever this shit is?" They ask skeptically, wiping off some of the black ooze from their sweater and inspecting it. It doesn't seem to affect them at all.

"Well...only you," you admit.

"Exactly," Chara states. "So. What do you suppose we do now, Frisky?"

"Um, finish Sans off?" You try. Their eyes darken, until they're as empty and void-like as the blackness surrounding you.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?" Chara asks, their voice echoing around you. "That I'm going to _let_ you? What, Frisk? Are you curious about this, too? Too bad." They smile at you one last time, then lunge at you.

Lunge  _into_ you.

You collapse, trying to fight, but after so many resets dodging Sans, you have no reserves left. Chara fills your body, picking up the controls with clumsy ease.

"Don't worry, Frisk," they say, looking at you from the inside. Their eyes swallow you whole. "I'm sure I can do a  _much_ better job freeing the underground than you.  _I'm a big fan of second chances._ "

Golden light surrounds you.


End file.
